Flying
by Elyndewen Startree
Summary: A companion piece to Falling. And a dedication to the character who J.K. Rowling took from us in her newest book. SPOILER ALERT, do not read unless you have already finished Harry Potter and the HalfBlood Prince.


**Flying**

By Elyndewen Startree

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any of the characters or plot elements mentioned in this work. Additionally, please be aware that this piece contains SPOILERS from the newly released Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. Please do not read it until you have finished the book.

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Old age had caught up to him at last.

Albus Dumbledore was reduced to this state.

But all was not lost.

Everyone can be saved.

And it was time for Albus Dumbledore to save a far gone student.

Draco Malfoy had orders to kill his headmaster.

But the headmaster was determined to save him.

A smile crossed his face, shining to Draco across their stalemate.

"Draco, Draco, you are not a killer."

"How do you know?" A quick, angry response from a boy too far gone.

Draco Malfoy felt as if he were being treated condescendingly, Albus knew.

But he also knew that he could save the boy.

Find the good inside a fragmented, poisoned soul.

Everyone is good.

Everyone is savable.

The boy tried to protest again.

"You don't know what I'm capable of. You don't know what I've done!"

And with a mild voice and smile, Albus continued to explain.

Draco had not killed.

Draco would not kill.

Draco would be saved at all costs.

Everyone could be saved.

They talked for long minutes.

Clever Draco had fooled even Albus.

Well, the headmaster was getting old.

He had accepted it.

But he had plenty of strength yet.

Not physical strength, perhaps.

He slipped another inch closer to the floor.

But he could save Draco Malfoy.

Even as he fought the pain and listlessness building in his body.

And they continued to talk.

They reviewed Draco's clever plan.

The necklace.

The mead.

Madame Rosmerta.

Borgin and Burkes.

Vanishing cabinets.

Albus's legs were weakening but his heart and mind were still strong.

He could not have saved Draco earlier this year.

But he could – and would – now.

Horace Slughorn.

Enchanted coins.

And finally they got to the meat of the moment.

"You care about me saying 'Mudblood' when I'm about to kill you?"

"Yes, I do. But as for being about to kill me, Draco, you have had several long minutes now, we are quite alone, I am more defenseless than you can have dreamed of finding me, and still you have not acted…"

Albus, with his weakening body, felt his heart begin to soar.

He was winning.

He was saving Draco Malfoy.

They continued to talk.

Why had he not spoken to Draco before?

Revealed the boy's plans?

Because all along, it came down to one thing.

Albus was going to save Draco Malfoy.

And he was just beginning to succeed when the Death Eaters came.

All was not quite lost; he could still triumph for Draco.

The Death Eaters taunted him and his stature continued to slip.

But the time for action came again.

And Draco did nothing.

He stood, shaking, afraid, hesitant, and Albus knew he had left a mark.

All was not lost.

And then his world flipped upside-down.

The remaining reserves of strength left his body as Snape appeared, seemingly out of thin air.

All the pieces clicked together and Albus lost his confidence that not all was lost.

No, not this.

Anything but this.

He had made mistakes before, but please, not this.

It was wrong.

He had saved Severus.

Severus believed in him.

Was loyal to him.

Severus was…

A buzz filled Albus's brain.

It rang through his head and sweat broke out profusely on his face.

Anything but that.

His horror, his confusion, his anguish manifested themselves in his voice as he tried to speak.

"Severus…" his voice was weak.

Albus was pleading.

It couldn't be true.

And yet he knew that it was.

It wasn't right.

He had saved Severus Snape!

"Severus…please…"

But this colleague of his stepped closer.

This student.

This hope of his came forward with a terrible face.

The inevitable seemed impossible to Albus.

Severus raised his wand and even then Albus tried to convince himself that it was wrong.

But it wasn't.

This was the truth, as pure as he would ever know it.

This was the truth of life.

Not everyone can be saved.

Albus had failed.

And here he was, ready to die.

Without hope or pride or victory.

He would die and the truth would die with him.

Albus would have hung his head in shame in those last moments of his life.

But he couldn't move his wide, tear-filled eyes from the terrible face of Severus Snape.

He heard the words, "Avada Kedavra!"

He saw the green flash of light.

And then he was gone.

His body flying to the battlements.

Separated from the soul soaring away.

Albus Dumbledore was no more.

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A/N: This fic is intended as a companion piece to "Falling" which I wrote several years ago after the death of Sirius Black. This is my attempt to understand Dumbledore's last moments from his point of view. I dedicate this piece to Albus Dumbledore, a fictional character who taught us all such valuable lessons. And to the truth, because beyond hope and grit and grim and determination, that is the epitome of reality and surreality all at once.


End file.
